


Come with me

by CallMeWhale



Category: Frozen (2013), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Comfort, Fantasy, Gen, Go ahead and think up the different possibilities, Hurt, I don't know how to tag this fic.., Imagination is given free-rein
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 00:58:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1709174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallMeWhale/pseuds/CallMeWhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>People call me a freak. They shun me. But it's okay. I hold no anger or resentment towards them cause I know if I am to be in their shoes I would shout assumptions and profanities at me as well. Before I knew it, a habit formed. Whenever someone calls me a "witch" or a "freak" or "demon", I would ask them why. Why do they think I am all that? For doing what I can - or for doing what they cannot?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come with me

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE feel free to make assumptions and imaginations regarding the background of this story. You think it's an AU, then it is. You think it's based on the movies, then it is. It is completely up to you. Enjoy!

Ever since young I am told that I am crazy. People point at me and laugh, their mouths twisting into a mocking line, and their eyes screaming fear and at rare times - envy. It's a wonder how people think. As many people say, you can never define normal. How can you define normal when what you think and do may not be normal to others as it is to you? People call me a freak. They shun me. But it's okay. I hold no anger or resentment towards them cause I know if I am to be in their shoes I would shout assumptions and profanities at me as well. Before I knew it, a habit formed. Whenever someone calls me a "witch" or a "freak" or "demon", I would ask them why. Why do they think I am all that? For doing what I can - or for doing what they cannot? I believe in what I can do, like any logical person out there should do. People can go on being proud with who and what they are so what makes me so different? How can they mock me for being the same as them? For trying to be the same as them?

I am not lonely. I never was nor am. My parents has died but it no longer hurts me. My sister hates me and calls me a coward but it no longer wounds me. What I hold now contains the key to my happiness and I will bear it with me always. How can I be lonely when they are there for me when others aren't? My mother taught me to be thankful for what I have and I am. I truly am. For this book is all I need because their actions don't hurt me. The only thing that can hurt me comes in the form of pages in this book.

* * *

 

I can feel the cool air whipping through the strands of my hair, blocking my view from the breathtaking land before me. Sitting on the ground, soon the snow starts soaking through the bottom of my night dress but I don't care. The cold never bothers me, whenever I am here _nothing_ bothers me. There's no shrewd glances and hurtful whispers. No laughter that brings rather sadness than joy and he's sitting next to me, wearing a simple blue hooded sweater with ferns of frost patches around the ring of the collar. The hem of his form-fitting brown trousers seems tight upon his ankle where no shoes hide his bare feet. Jack Frost, I read of him before in my book. A boy who died and became the spirit of winter or better yet the shepherd of winter. His name fits him yet it doesn't at the same time. Cold yet warm, harsh yet soothing, a friend and yet an enemy. He seemed so big yet so frail at the same time - I almost had a hard time believing he is who people say he is. His stories however was a great tale told. He is nothing like any other guardians I have read about whose perfection is nothing but.

Sitting in silence, we allowed our minds to linger away from that which is reality. Something stayed hidden though - in the swirling air, a rich baritone with soothing effects. It's soft - almost too soft. It's driving me crazy. Before I know it I am twirling in the middle of the snow, his hands latched around the small of my back while mine circles around his neck. The sound comes in the form of words now, hushed tones. Jack lost both his mother as well as his sister after he died, their lives wither away with his though he was given another chance while they do not. Many memories of the woman who nurtured him were lost and those that he still hold onto dearly comes in a form of a song. This is one of them, a simple tune with words from the old ages I can never fathom. When the background starts to blend together, I could feel my head feeling airy. Giddy with happiness, I gestures him to stop and fortunately, he does. His lips forms a gentle line, neither does it look mocking nor is it teasing.

"Are you tired, my snow queen?" He whispers into my ear, holding onto me like a prized possession as I nuzzles his chest. Hesitantly, I shook my head knowing that if I say I am he would tell me to go home and I don't want that. No, not yet. Just because I'm not angry at the others doesn't mean I'm not hurt.

"Do you want to sleep?" He pulls me down onto the ground, settling me on his lap - cradling me. I shook my head in response, refusing to look up at him.

"Why don't you sleep?" He starts combing through my hair, wrapping his other arm around my shoulders pulling me closer.

"I'm afraid." I whisper, unable to project it any louder. To my surprise, it brought on a chuckle from Jack.

_**Still dream, and all the wonder that you knew** _

Moments later, I can hear his gentle voice once more. A lullaby. Its lyrics is that of which I have read in the book. A song of hope, wonder and dreams. For some reason I felt as though those words were aimed at me but as he hummed once more, I couldn't help but to push it further back into my mind. As long as his arms are still around me, holding me closer to him I can't possibly care about anything else.

_**Will all come flying back to you.** _

"Then come with me." He whispers, he turns me by my shoulders to look at him - his smile as light as the cold wind that encircles us.

**_If you remember all the hope you left behind,_ **

Run away with him? To leave my troubles behind and be with him? My parents will be disappointed, my sister will cry, the villagers will mock me even more so. A single moment of hesitation is all it took. His smile slides into a deep frown, creases lining his forehead, and his sky blue eyes forming an ember haze on its own.

_**Open up your heart and change your mind.** _

"Why won't you come with me?" His voice a mere whisper but it spoke in volumes.

**_Oh what you’ll find if you still dream._ **

Pulling away at the sudden onslaught of cold dread, I can feel my back hit the ground - the melting snow soaking into the back my nightdress but this feels different. It is sticky and heavy, holding me firm onto the ground. It is as though the white element is pulling me in, preventing my escape. My fingers claws the frozen sand desperately, nails turning blue from the same ice and frost that tightens around my throat...

**_Time to close your eyes_ **

 

**_But when you awake,_ **

 

**_Still dream._ **

* * *

 

As hands pulled me out of my snowy grave, I felt a new rush of power pulsing through my veins. With his hand in mine, he pulled me out of my musings and into his arms.

"Come on let's go." He whispered. "You're free now. You're with me."

...

..

.

**Author's Note:**

> I guess it could be kinda confusing in a sense. I've read a couple of fics which involves Jack Frost being the 'Saint Of Suicide' so I guess that was some sort of my inspiration. I ended it a bit vaguely so I hope your imagination runs wild when you were reading. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it.


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